


Old Dog, New Tricks

by NeonDaisies



Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Some bad language, Some suggestive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:07:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonDaisies/pseuds/NeonDaisies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have something that belongs to you?”  Starting at the beginning seemed the best way to make sense of this.<br/>“Yes.  You.  You do.  You belong to me.”<br/>What happens in the wake of IM 1 when Pepper finally scrapes together the courage to take Tony up on his offer? Canon-compliant only through IM 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Acceptance

**Author's Note:**

> I’m blaming all of this on a dream. Not that it was really a dream, more like something my half-asleep mind concocted as I waited for my alarm clock to go off, but something about that plot stuck with me and practically had me bouncing off the walls until I could start writing it down. This is the first Iron Man story I ever wrote, so it seemed like the appropriate place to start as I begin moving fics over from ff.net.

Tony “I am Iron Man” Stark had survived to the end of a bad week. It wasn’t his job that made it bad. After becoming a CEO of an established, multinational corporation at the unprecedented age of 21, he was more than used to dealing with an obstinate Board of Directors. It wasn’t the reporters who’d trailed his every step since Tuesday when he’d come back from another trip to the troubled Middle East with a black eye and a split lip. Though not used to the quantity, Tony had learned years ago how to deal with the press. It wasn’t even the fact that he’d had to deal with an irate Fury (pun intended) for acting without orders or even a clear idea what he’d been flying into.

…again.

What had made this a very bad week – the worst since he’d initially blown his cover as Iron Man – was that _this_ week, Pepper hadn’t spoken to him once.

Well, sure, she’d spoken _at_ him plenty. Even when irate, Pepper was nothing if not professional. She’d brought him coffee, and arranged and briefed him about his meetings, and had even run out to complete errands that wouldn’t have been necessary if he hadn’t procrastinated too long in an attempt to make her talk about anything other than business.

But no matter how professional she pretended to be, there was a tightness to her eyes and mouth…a set to her shoulders that made her posture a little _too_ straight. The signs that whatever was troubling her was both personal and damn important were there. Every time he asked what was wrong though, she would bulldoze right through him with the minutia of his life scheduled down to the last minute until his ears were ringing with it and she was able to make her escape without ever once raising her voice or allowing the mask she wore to slip.

Infuriated, fed up, and _hurt_ by her behavior, Tony had cornered her before she left the house that afternoon. God, he hated fighting with her. Out of everyone in his life, she was the only one who left him with a bad taste in his mouth after letting angry words spill. Yet even hating himself after the fact would be better than living with the hard, impersonal woman Pepper had morphed into this past week.

He’d failed spectacularly, of course. There was nothing else to call it when he’d ranted until he was red-faced and she’d stood there like the personification of grace under fire.

“Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“No, that will _not_ ‘be all,’” he’d growled at her. “What the _hell_ is wrong with you!”  Panting, still a little convinced that she might respond, Tony had stood barely a foot away from her. From this distance, every emotion behind her blue eyes should have been legible. They shouldn’t have been clear, clear down to their depths.

“Five-oh-one.”

“What?”

“It’s 5:01,” she repeated calmly. “The workweek is over, Mr. Stark. Enjoy yourself this evening, sir.” And she’d slipped past him into the hallway.

He’d stood motionlessly in the doorway of her empty office until he heard the front door open and close.

“Jarvis?” He’d closed her office door with a gentleness that should have been beyond him at this point. “Lock Ms. Potts’s office until further notice. Do not allow her in until I tell you to.”

“Of course, sir.” There was the soft sound of electromagnets engaging, assuring him that Pepper would eventually _have_ to come to him to finish their conversation.  “Anything else, sir?”

“Tell Hogan to have the car ready at eight,” he added in a dark tone after a moment’s consideration.

_“Enjoy yourself,”_ she’d said. Fine. After a week of living like an unwelcome guest in her presence, Tony was in the mood for a little enjoyment. After months of celibacy for _her_ sake – he knew how much she _hated_ seeing those women out – he was more than ready to enjoy himself.

And after seeing the one person he gave enough of a damn about to attempt to modify his behavior for walk away as if she couldn’t care less, he was determined to have such a good time that she’d regret…

That she would regret not speaking to him as much as he already regretting yelling at her.

 

+

 

The irony of the venue didn’t escape him. The Fourth Annual Fireman’s Family Fund gala was just about the last place Tony wanted to find himself. After finishing his fifth Scotch and hearing his too-loud laughter echoing from the walls around him, he knew it was the last place he _should_ have found himself. After staring at every glimpse of red he caught out of the corner of his eye, he knew he’d stay despite all the reasons why he shouldn’t.

The women he’d mostly steered clear of since his return from hell – more commonly known as Afghanistan – were more than willing to keep up with him. They interpreted the restless energy that poured out of him as good spirits, his calculation as charm. They danced with him without protest, never once suggested that they trade the perfumed air indoors for the cool night air outdoors, and never expected that he wanted anything less – or believed that he could want anything more – than their company at the end of the evening.

Iron Man or no, Tony Stark was a playboy and they all knew it.

Once Tony thought he saw _her_ there. He thought he’d seen her dancing with a man across the room, looking comfortable and at ease. Once, just once, he thought he saw her eyes meet his, and then slide away without even a flicker of acknowledgement. Once.  But that had been well after the eighth Scotch. If he also thought he saw her leave the venue with another face in a black tuxedo, that had absolutely no bearing on the two women he eventually escorted to the door himself.

The women’s empty chatter rang around him without meaning as he waited for Happy to bring the car around. The discrete stares from others caused by his possibly too-loud innuendos were ignored if they were ever even noticed. The world was nicely hazy and out of focus. The only taste in his mouth was a lingering hint of Lagavulin and his mind was too dulled to hang on to any one thing for long. There was no battle to forget, but neither was there any real impetus to continue. Alcohol had achieved his goals for the evening; being in public had given him an acceptable excuse for the inevitable hangover the next morning where staying home and getting drunk alone wouldn’t have. Bringing his drinking companions home with him was more of an act of habit, picked up again after long neglect, than an urge. But who was he to argue with habit? It didn’t matter what else had changed in his life, he decided as his car pulled up in front of him and the backseat door swung open without visible assistance.

“Who’s she?” The brunette – Sandy? Mandy? Andie? – on his left arm almost toppled over as she turned towards him. “Who’s that, Tony?”

It didn’t really matter what else had changed, only what hadn’t. And what never would.  Pepper would never –

“Mr. Stark, please get into the car.”

He blinked in disbelief and amended what Pepper would never do. Pepper would never leave him. Even when pissed beyond belief at him.

“Right.” He disentangled himself from the two women with the cautious movements of the very drunk, and clambered into the backseat of the sedan without another thought.  That was how his life worked, after all. He was the boss, a man in control of a massive corporation, but he didn’t even begin to believe that he was actually in charge of Pepper.  She was the one who told him what to do and where to be, and he did it. He usually didn’t say what he was supposed to, but he was usually at the right place while he said the wrong thing.

“Home, Hap.” The car was already in motion, so he didn’t notice that the window partition was up. The backseat was quiet. The light in the ceiling was still on, giving the space a dim illumination. Tony couldn’t quite take his eyes off the soft shine of Pepper’s hair. But habit, roused and half awake now, had him taking a mental inventory of his assistant no matter what his eyes wanted to do.

Black. She was wearing black and it made her hair, and her eyes, and her skin absolutely radiant in a way her somber business suits never did. She was turned towards him, and the uncertainty over whether or not her dress was backless tormented him almost as badly as its tight grip on her breasts, waist, and hips. The skirt spilled across the seat like the tide, washing up against his thigh. On the floor, he could just make out a few toes peeking out from under her skirt; her toenails were painted a vibrant red. Hot-rod red he might even say.

“I thought the workweek was over.” It was about the only thing his intoxicated mind could grasp. Well, about the only thing it could grasp that wouldn’t get him slapped. She probably didn’t want to hear that her dress would look better if it were adorning his bedroom floor. Or the living room floor. Or the basement floor. Or any floor, really, as that would mean she was no longer inside of it.

“It is.” Nothing about her demeanor changed, but there was a patience in her voice that was new. Not just new after her behavior this past week, but new entirely. It was a tone he’d never heard from her, and she’d had cause to sound patient with him before. “No one but you calls me over the weekend, but everyone who will call me later in the week wants to talk to me on nights like this.”

“Why?” He wasn’t really tracking what she was saying, just that she was saying it to him and not at him.

“Because you do things during the week that unnerve people. Not everyone wants to do business with a man who flies around the world in a red and gold suit, Mr. Stark. It’s on occasions like these that they seek me out for reassurance that the man running Stark Industries isn’t off his rocker.”

“Oh.” He reached out and touched the hem of her skirt that was brushing against his leg.  The material was soft. Silky. Cool. His head still couldn’t wrap around the fact that she was here, though it was easily able to imagine that her skin would feel similar to her dress.  But better. And it occurred to him that they were alone, though the scent clinging to his lapel claimed that he at least hadn’t been for long. Pepper never wore perfume but he reeked of it.

“You drove off without –”

“Yes,” she replied, well aware that he was never going to remember those women’s names. Or probably even their faces.

“Jealous?”

She didn’t even look ruffled by the accusation. She was still as calm as she’d been earlier in the day. “Yes.” She must have seen the shock on his face because she showed pity on him and explained herself. “I’m tired of seeing you mistreat and whore out what belongs to me.”

Tony blinked. Pepper usually made sense. She also didn’t usually use crude language.  And she most definitely didn’t usually use crude language in conjunction with him.

She hadn’t actually called him a whore. Had she?

“I have something that belongs to you?” Starting at the beginning seemed the best way to make sense of this.

“Yes. You. You do. You belong to me.”

Did that mean she _had_ just called him a whore? “Did you just call me –”

The question went up in flames as Pepper leaned across the seat and kissed him.

For moment, he thought his heart had stopped despite the reactor still buzzing in his chest. Then his brain – well, the back, impulsive part of his brain that always led to both his worst and his best ideas – kicked into action with the same wrenching jerk as a junker kicking into third from first gear. His heart started racing and his eyes were frozen open as Pepper’s lips ghosted over his. It was an extraordinarily intense reaction for what amounted to tenderness, but that tenderness dominated him more thoroughly than any other woman’s most lustful kisses had. 

He almost chalked his reaction up to originality. He was Tony Stark. He didn’t do gentle, he didn’t do tender, and he didn’t do intimate without some kind of agenda. But the kiss. _God_. This wasn’t just a kiss, this was _Pepper_. This was an inside joke spoken from bitten lips and red eyes. This was heartfelt assurances that everything going to be alright despite the fact he was going into cardiac arrest. This was every reason she’d come up with on this night last year why they shouldn’t…and it was all the reasons she’d never vocalized.

This was earth shaking, and life changing, and for a moment Tony could hear her screaming his name in the back of his head just like he had in that dirty terrorist’s camp.  Just like he had after the arc reactor had overloaded and blown up. And he was suddenly terrified that this couldn’t possibly be real because this wasn’t something that happened to men like him. They did not receive the most meaningful kiss of their lives on a night they’d been planning to take two women home with them from the woman who’d been pissed at them all week and who knew full well what he’d been planning to do before she’d stopped him.

This did…not…happen.

_“Pepper.”_ Ending the kiss was agonizing – practically a tangible physical pain – and all he could think as he gripped her shoulders and pushed her back far enough so that he could see her eyes was that her skin felt as amazing as he remembered. Until he looked in her eyes. What he saw there subjugated him more surely than her kiss had; not lust. Not need. Just pure, undiluted confidence.

He didn’t want to know what it said about his face that she didn’t take his actions as rejection. It was enough that he could feel the bewilderment bubbling up inside of him. He pulled his hands away from her and rubbed them into his face, grinding his palms into his eyes as he laughed helplessly and with more than a touch of hysteria. He no longer felt drunk, just very, very confused.

“Who are you and what have you done with Pepper Potts?” A body snatchers scenario was the only thing that could explain this. Or perhaps he’d fallen into an alternate dimension. Or perhaps this was just revenge for whatever prick thing he’d done to rile her so. It was the only explanation for why what should have been a glimpse into paradise felt like a glimpse into his own personal hell.

“Look at me.”

Yes, definitely body snatchers, he decided as he ignored her soft command. It explained everything so well. Her becoming Super-Assistant, her calm acceptance of his anger earlier in the evening (since when did Pepper back down from any sort of fight with him?  It was practically her job to butt heads with him when necessary), her mutation into a Stepford wife here in his car…

He heard her sigh and cautiously spread his fingers just enough so that he could look at her through them.

“Pepper.”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“I’m not asleep.”

“No.”

“Or crazy.”

Her lips quirked in a little smile, the kind that indicated he’d just done something endearing. “The answer to that is debatable.”

A good point and exactly what he would have expected her to say.

“And you’re not crazy.”

“That’s also a matter up for debate in some circles.”

_Hm._ He didn’t like the implications of that, so he ignored them. It was nobody’s business what he and Pepper were to each other. Though it was very much _his_ business and he wanted to know what the hell was going on.

“What the hell is going on?” Yeah, he’d never had much of a mind/mouth filter.

A smile he’d never dreamed of seeing on his assistant’s face – the kind of smile that belonged on maneaters not women who routinely wore business suits – teased the corners of Pepper’s mouth. “What’s going on, Mr. Stark, is that I accept your offer.”


	2. Confusion

“Will you think less of me if I ask what offer that was?” Tony asked after a long, silent moment. Really, he thought he deserved at least a moment to process her words, because any and all rules of logic precluded them actually coming out of her mouth. “Not to stress the point or anything, but I’m kinda a recovering bastard and I’ve made more offers than I could ever remember, and those are just the completely indecent ones… Feel free to stop me any time.”

“No. I think you’ve covered all the bases.”

“If you have such a high opinion of me, I’m surprised you’re entertaining any sort of offer from me at all.”

Her eyes narrowed and she muttered something that sounded very much like “I knew you were going to be difficult about this.” But her mouth was set in a resolute line – the same look she usually reserved for kicking his ass out of his garage for a few hours of sleep – and he knew her mind was searching for the right angle of attack. 

“Just because I agree that you’re a recovering bastard, as you put it, doesn’t mean I hold a low opinion of you.” Her words were paced, deliberate and Tony found himself just a little ashamed that he’d suggested that she didn’t respect him. Because he knew better. No, he knew _her_ better. Her reputation meant too much to her for her not to care about other people’s reputations on some level.

Of course, before becoming Iron Man, that had baffled the hell out of him. He hadn’t done much that was worthy of respect then. Sure, he’d had a hell of a reputation as a businessman and an engineer, but not much of one when it came to “upstanding member of the community” criteria. He’d always just assumed that even Pepper had a price that she was eventually willing to accept for some things.

_“You’re all I have too, you know.”_

Oh. Right. _He_ was the price. Even when completely shit-faced, Tony’s mind was able to put one and one together to get two. Eventually.

“Pepper Potts. Are you asking me to go steady?” He sounded just a little freaked out to his own ears. Understandably so, or at least he thought it was understandable. It’d been almost a year ago when he’d opened himself up to her _(“If I were Iron Man, I’d have this girlfriend…)_ and she’d shut him down. Almost an entire year with no signs of weakening on her part. The night they’d danced had become “The Night That Shall Not Be Discussed” à la Harry Potter, and he’d started to think…

“ – you, Tony?” 

“What?” Really, he needed to stop drinking so much. It shot his concentration straight to hell, even if was able to still do basic math.

God, he hadn’t just missed her declaring her undying love or anything like that, had he?

“You’re _very_ drunk, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely, and I don’t see how that has any bearing on our conversation. Are you propositioning me?”

“Not in so many words, no.”

“Pity, but that’s alright. You really don’t need many words to get the point across.  Three words, tops, if you’re willing to sacrifice deep, meaningful emotion for expedient crudity.”

“Tony?”

“Yes.”

“Shut up.” And she was back, her hand a gentle warmth against his cheek as she kissed the corner of his mouth, delicately tasted his bottom lip. But this time Tony had seen her coming. This time he wasn’t thinking about her dress, or her confounding behavior. This time he had enough of his wits about him to at least sink his fingers into her hair and _hold_ her, for the love of God, so that he was at least participating instead of sitting there like the world’s biggest ass.

He could feel her pause against his lips, could feel the hot, moist rush of her breath against his jaw. The moment stretched on, vibrating with the kind of intensity that he usually thought was reserved for centrifuges. The heat, the tension, were becoming distilled into something stronger than they’d been. When her tongue darted out to moisten her lip, he felt it, and something imploded inside his chest. The shockwaves had his arms tightening convulsively around her. The slide of her body against his set him back in familiar territory. 

For one too-short moment that lasted forever, Pepper was so damned alive in his arms that he could feel something that he’d always considered a part of himself going up in smoke. She was heat and presence and scent and taste and the only thing in his entire world worth devouring because if he tasted and touched enough of her then…then…

He was on the verge of solving what amounted to one the mysteries of the universe when suddenly Pepper was pushing away from him.

“No thinking,” he automatically protested, trying to pull her back. He already missed her warmth. “You and I are through with thinking.”

“Tony?”

“Yes?” He tightened his hand around hers. He was still drunk, still off balance from the fact that she was here, still reeling from that last kiss and whatever fundamental element of him that it’d changed. If he let her go, if he released that physical tether, he didn’t know what would happen. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out.

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” she said firmly.

“Why?”

“Because you’re drunk.”

“Yeah, well, that’s never stopped me before.”

“I know.” She gently freed her hand from the tight grip he had on it and reached for the door handle. For the first time Tony noticed that the car was stopped and that the buildings outside looked familiar. They were at her apartment. “But I’m more than a quick fuck, Mr. Stark. And so are you.”


	3. Embrace

On Friday night, Pepper Potts rocked Tony Stark’s world and then sent him home to sleep off his intoxication. On Saturday, when he finally woke up long past noon it was with a headache and sense that his world was dangerously off-kilter. It was not a good time for a fuzzy memory. In fact, he didn’t remember much except that he’d had too much to drink and then Pepper had either said that she loved him or that under no circumstances would she ever sleep with him. Which was a concept he’d kind of gotten years ago.

God, had Pepper really kissed him last night? The immediate response of his body assured him that yes, she had. And he’d enjoyed it. Feeling a little overwhelmed, Tony braced both arms against the walls of the shower and hung his head so that the spray pounded into the back of his neck.

_“I’m tired of seeing you mistreat and whore out what belongs to me.”_

_“Yes. You. You do. You belong to me.”_

_“What’s going on, Mr. Stark, is that I accept your offer.”_

_“But I’m more than a quick fuck, Mr. Stark. And so are you.”_

It was too much to dump on a guy in a single evening. And frankly, he considered it damn unfair as well.

Saturday evening was spent in a lack of occupation. After getting Pepper’s voicemail the first seven times he called, Tony parked himself on his sofa and watched TV.  Normally he found NBA games pretty diverting, but tonight his brain was too busy processing… processing….

It wasn’t just her behavior the night before that he considered, but _everything_ about her that he could remember. All of it, every shred of memory was a variable in a massive equation that he worked through step by step, year by year.

At eleven Tony called it a night. It was strange to get into bed so early, but he fell asleep almost immediately. When he woke up the next morning, it was with purpose. His brain had finished its calculations while he slept. He dressed, taking care to walk the line between what he wore as her boss and what he wore in the garage. 

He wanted to be a different man for her, not the one who brought women home she had to get rid of or the one who blew off appointments and made her work so damn hard. 

He took no notice of time as he left his house. In fact, he took little notice of anything at all. He was impatient and still just a little angry that she would dump all this on him and leave without a single explanation. One moment he was climbing into his car and the next he was parking in front of her condo with absolutely no memory of the drive over. But he was there and could find no reason to put things off any longer.

“Tony.” She rubbed a bit of sleep out of her eye before looking at him with a half amused, half expectant expression. “You’re late. I expected you yesterday.”

 He ignored her. “I _am_ Iron Man,” he said defiantly, daring her to make any sort of objection. “So therefore it stands to reason that the woman – the _one_ woman – who knows everything about me must be my girlfriend.” 

Then, before she could object or say that wasn’t what the other night had been about, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her for all he was worth…or perhaps for all she was worth. Yes, he kissed her for all she was worth, because he valued her infinitely more than himself. He wanted to burrow under her skin and live there, wanted to know her from the inside out so he wouldn’t be caught off guard again. While this surprise of hers had been enjoyable this time, as a rule he didn’t like being clueless.

She let him kiss her for several minutes. She even kissed him back, her hands settling on his biceps and kneading, sliding over his shoulders and stroking the back of his neck.  It wasn’t until he slipped his hands under the soft material of her tank top that she pulled away. Her hands slipped down to his wrists and pulled his hands out from under her shirt.

She closed the still-open front door behind him. “If you’re dragging me out of bed at 7 A.M. on a Sunday morning, I want coffee.”




“Why stop at coffee?” He pulled her close by the hand he was still holding. “Why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll bring you breakfast?” His other hand slid down her body to cup her hip as he stepped forward to press himself against her.

“Tony…” Pepper put her hand against his chest and stepped back. “Why don’t I take a shower and meet you out here for breakfast?” she said. Her eyes told him that she knew exactly where he was going with this, and that she wasn’t touching it. “Give me half an hour.”  She pulled her hand from his and left him standing in her living room.

 

+

 

She took him out to breakfast. Not to a restaurant or an out of the way corner bistro, but to the local farmer’s market. He tried to pay for the things she bought – the homemade cinnamon rolls, the hand-picked strawberries, the fresh-squeezed orange juice – but she turned him down, telling him she doubted he had anything smaller than a fifty in his billfold if he had any cash at all. And because it made her happy, he didn’t protest, he just accepted whatever small offerings she would buy when they finished the next part of their meal and carried the things she bought that weren’t for immediate consumption.

He found it…strange…to walk at her side, to follow her lead. It wasn’t unpleasant – far from it in fact – but it _was_ a turnaround for them. He was used to having her direct his days, to moving from event to event to the accompaniment of her voice. To walk by her side with no destination in mind and to talk about inconsequential matters like the weather, or current events, or office gossip relaxed something in him, soothed the restlessness that’d driven him to her house.

She was letting him inside her life with grace and welcome, and he hadn’t known how much he’d needed her uncomplaining acceptance.

At the end of the market they came to the flowers. Pepper passed most of the booths by without pause. The only one she hesitated for was a stall selling bonsai. She kept up her end of the conversation as she slowed and paused, examining a miniature fir closely. He watched her find the placard with the prices listed. The one she was looking at was listed at $75, and the booth didn’t accept checks.

Pepper ran her finger along the edge of the pot one last time and turned as if she were going to leave.

“We’ll take two,” Tony said, interrupting the flow of their conversation. Pepper of course tried to protest but he just handed all their parcels over to her so he could dig out his billfold. “One for your office at the house, one for your office at the…office.” Pepper laughed as he’d intended her to and didn’t try to stop him again, though the look on her face communicated that she was allowing this because he so obviously wanted to do it for her.

The young man running the booth looked amazed at the sight of the two hundreds Tony handed over, but he soon had two of the miniatures packed up in a shallow cardboard box. 

“Trade you,” Tony offered as they walked away.

Pepper smirked as she idly swung her green canvas shopping bag of produce back and forth. “I don’t think so, Mr. Stark. You bought them so you can carry them.”

 

+

 

They didn’t talk about that night on the roof of the concert hall, or the day of the Press Conference, or even of just the other night when she’d kissed him. As anxious as he’d been to clarify these matters, Tony found himself reluctant to raise the subject. It was infinitely more satisfying to observe Pepper as she behaved outside the office. Or outside of the workforce, Tony supposed. Whenever Pepper was in his company she was ready to work at the drop of a hat. But on this sunny Sunday morning she was content to get coffee with him and grab a newspaper and an old blanket out of the back of her car and sit in the grass at the park.

She headed towards a massive old oak with the ease of long routine. The trunk was broad enough to support them both and the shade was welcome on a day that was starting to get warm.

It was an oddly pleasant way to kill a couple of hours. When Pepper folded one section of the paper into quarters and pulled a pen out of her purse, Tony smiled. “Crossword, Ms. Potts?”

“Always, Mr. Stark.” She glanced up at him through her eyelashes. “Keeps the brain nimble. I need the exercise to keep up with you.”

Her tone was flirtatious. He laughed and shifted until he was lying down. After crossing his arms behind his head to pillow it – though he would have preferred the pillow of her lap – he said, “Read me the first clue.”

They did the crossword together. Or more accurately, Pepper read him the clues before telling him the answers. She only rarely needed his help. He knew she was smart. Hell, he’d hired her because she was smart, had come to rely on her because she was not only smart, but intelligent. But for some reason the speed with which she finished the Sunday New York Times crossword only drove home again how smart she was.

It was one of the reasons he adored her.

 

+

 

She treated him to a light lunch and then they drove down to Santa Monica, taking the costal highway instead of the tributaries of I-5. The afternoon was spent down at the historical waterfront where Tony followed her in and out of art galleries and tourists traps.  He took note of the things she lingered in front of, cataloging her taste in art and jewelry, handmade one of a kind knickknacks and mass produced tourist offerings.

Sometimes she would catch him while he was watching her, and he could see that she would try to appear unaffected. No, that was the wrong word. She didn’t look indifferent at all. But she wore confidence like an expensive evening gown – she looked good in it but sometimes something would slip farther than she meant it to and she would have to pull herself back together. 

The slips didn’t destroy the illusion though, because she _was_ in control. She was the one who had initiated this dance, and he was content to let her lead him through it. Especially since she wasn’t nearly as confident of _him_ as she pretended to be.

It pleased him to think that no matter how comfortable they were around each other, no matter how well she knew him, she didn’t see him as a “sure thing.” It was a silly ego boost, but he’d take what he could get because Pepper Potts had never been one to stoke his vanity.

He _was_ a sure thing where she was concerned though. He’d been committed to her for months now, and was pretty sure she’d noticed even if she hadn’t acted on it until now.  The only thing that’d been holding him back had been her lack of commitment. But all that had changed now. The moment he caught the rhythm of their new dynamic, that he understood where she was coming from and where she intended for them to go… 

Well, he _was_ Tony Stark, and everyone knew that Tony Stark always got what he wanted. Now that he had the possibility of Pepper, he didn’t want anyone or anything else. So he followed her willingly wherever she chose to go. He enjoyed the simple satisfaction of walking down the street with her, of being free to ignore the curious glances passersby gave them. They were outside his usual world; people might recognize him, but no one _knew_ him and so no one stopped them to talk. It was strange but good to just be a man spending a day with his woman.

Tony hoped that this was part of what Pepper intended them to be, because it was something he’d needed for a long time. He’d been starving for this without ever realizing it, starving for a chance to escape the pressure of being Tony Stark the CEO; or Tony Stark the gold and titanium clad hero; or even of being Tony Stark the inventor who was always locked away in a cement grey world with only robots for company. It was much preferable to be a man walking down a tourist-crowded street, wondering if he should reach out and take the hand of the woman at his side.

He wondered if Pepper even knew how attractive her predilection for simplicity was to him.

 

+

 

She took him to the Santa Monica pier. The sun was getting low by the time they got there. The candy colored lights of the rides and attractions along the midway glowed dimly, blinking in and out in a dozen different tempos. Out of the corners of his eyes they gave the impression of a live-action pointillist painting.

Pepper laughed softly when he looked around for an admission booth. “It’s not getting in that costs you, Tony. It’s not until you want to do something that they charge you.”  There was a mischievous look in her eyes that caught at him. He wondered if she was the same way; if he could have her for nothing but would be required to give things up in order to gain full admittance.

They played two rounds of miniature golf. Pepper beat him both times. He blamed it on her superior knowledge of the course. She asked what that had to do with the five times he’d ended up hitting his ball onto another green entirely. For that he silently resolved to take her to Cypress Point in Pebble Beach some weekend and see how she did there.

After golf, Tony offered to take her to dinner, but Pepper declined. Instead she pulled him over to the funnel cake stand and ordered two monstrous, deep-fried and sugar covered confections. She topped hers off with a mass of orange marmalade, then turned to Tony expectantly.

“Pepper, this thing is already a disaster waiting to happen,” Tony told her as he accepted his plate. True, he had a fondness for all things greasy, but he doubted he was going to be able to finish his…and _knew_ that she wouldn’t be able to finish hers. “The fallout from the powered sugar alone is probably enough to merit the attention of FEMA.”

She bumped his shoulder with hers playfully. “Ha-ha. Laugh it up, Stark.” For one breathtaking moment her face was just a few inches away from his, easily within kissing range. He wanted to kiss her, wanted to lean in and close those few inches. He wanted the soft, quiet intimacy of the other night when they’d been in the back of his limo. He wanted to be free to kiss her without the haze of intoxication that had hung around him the last time.

What he really wanted was to leave her as speechless as she’d left him. Considering the lead she had on him, he needed to work hard to catch up.

The light was dim, but Tony could see Pepper’s eyes darken as she noticed how intently he was watching her. Their steps slowed, and for a second Tony thought that he was going to get his kiss right there in the middle of the pier as people hurried past them on either side. Then Pepper’s eyelids swept down; when they rose again her eyes were… knowing.

Tony shivered as he realized that Pepper Potts was flirting with him.

“Finish your funnel cake, Stark. I want to go on the rides.”


	4. Illumination

As predicted, Tony did not finish his funnel cake. Pepper, however, polished hers off in record time, earning his awe, admiration, and a certain amount of shocked fascination.  Where did she put it all? he couldn’t help but wonder. Of course, considering all the salads and whole wheat sandwiches with sprouts that she ate during the week, maybe she splurged like this every weekend.

He hoped she did; he wanted to watch her indulge herself as she’d been doing today.

This time when she caught him staring at her, she smiled and wiped at her face with the tips of her fingers. She missed a smear of powdered sugar and Tony carefully brushed it off her cheek with his thumb. Her eyes held his as he fought an internal battle about what to do next. With any other woman he would clean his thumb suggestively before saying something that rode the line between lewd and merely inappropriate. But this wasn’t just another woman. So he slowly and carefully rubbed his fingers together, brushing the sugar off while acknowledging everything he was thinking with a lopsided smile. After all, Pepper knew better than anyone but Rhodey what he “normally” did.

“Com’on – there’s something here you’re going to love.”

The words weren’t really necessary; it didn’t really matter what it was that she had to show him. He would follow her just about anywhere and usually did with a lot less incentive than the anticipation currently sparkling in her eyes.

She led him to the penny arcade and their collection of vintage games. The authentic clockwork pieces were in perfect working order. Pepper lingered over them with him, fishing loose change out of the depths of her purse. He fed the coins into the machines like an eager child, even pouting a little when she ran out.

“Maybe if you save up your own change you can play longer next time,” Pepper said as soon as she managed to stop laughing.

Tony smiled in contentment, not only at her easy mention of a “next time” but because of her easy laugh.

He loved the sound of her laughter. Working with her for the last seven years had proved how rare a sound it was. Her professionalism had often seemed to override her ability to express amusement freely. All her smirks, quirked lips, and even her scowls when he pressed a little too far all served to make her personable, approachable. Her laugh made her human though, and not just approachable but attainable.

“Next time,” he agreed, claiming the glimpse of the future she offered.

 

+

 

Tony got more and more nervous with every step they took away from the raucous levity of the boardwalk. The lights, and laughter, and the tinny calypso music provided a screen of sorts. They encouraged participation in the fun, to think no farther than the next ride, the next attraction. But the soft dusk they were walking into encouraged thoughts of another kind…

His steps slowed without conscious direction from his brain. He didn’t want to keep going, didn’t want to get into Pepper’s car and go home. The future was suddenly an unknown and unquantifiable variable in which he could lose access to all this as soon as the clock struck midnight. Monday could sweep the dreamy wonder of this weekend away under the pressures of “real life.”

Tony suspected that the only way to calm his fears was to find the answers to the questions that had driven him from his bed that morning.

His steps slowed again…came to a stop. It took Pepper several more steps before she realized he wasn’t beside her anymore. Then she stopped too, and turned to look at him. The quizzical look on her face arched one eyebrow high and curved her lips into a small, solicitous smile. Looking at her made Tony’s heart thud alarmingly in his chest. This thing with Pepper ought to be mild when weighed against his experience…except it was anything but. This thing with Pepper wasn’t a high speed car chase where rumpled sheets were the final destination. It was a tightrope act, and he was a novice.

“Tony?” She was waiting for him. Not impatiently, but with a touch of concern. “You alright?”

“I need to talk to you.” The words left his mouth without any grace, but Pepper just nodded and came back to him. He held out his hand, relieved that it at least was steady when he suddenly felt anything but. Pepper looked even more curious, but she put her hand in his. Her hand was so small compared to his, but it helped to calm the wildness growing inside him.

He tightened his grip so that she couldn’t easily pull away from him and take this renewed sense of calm with her. Pepper didn’t comment, though her hand squeezed back as she looked around them.

“Let’s go for a walk on the beach.” She made it more than a suggestion as she led him away from the pier and towards the boardwalk.

The farther they got from the pier, the louder the night’s quietness became. The soft whoosh and hiss of waves hitting the shore and retreating and the sound of flip-flops hitting wood as people passed them were all that filled the silence as they walked, and walked a little further. Finally they came to a place where they could access the beach, and Pepper pulled him down the steps and further away from any curious eyes that might recognize him.

Another few minutes passed before Tony realized that Pepper was waiting for him to break the silence, but now that the threat of imminent separation was past, he didn’t know how to phrase his questions. He didn’t even know where to start. So he let his questions boil down to the two things that bothered him most: why now, and “You called me a whore.”

When he heard the hurt in his voice, Tony cringed, and wished he could take the words back. But Pepper’s soft sigh was already loose on the breeze and her hand shifted in his until their fingers were entwined. She was going to answer, and it was too late to bluff his way out of his emotions and pretend like she hadn’t pared him back to his very core –

“If I remember correctly, Tony, I said that you were whoring out something I found precious, not that you yourself were a whore.”

“Seems like a pretty fine line to draw, Potts.” His voice was gruff in an attempt to appear aloof. In an attempt to salvage part of his pride.

“But an important one. An essential one, even. One that separates the man from the behavior.” The tone in Pepper’s voice made it clear that this was essential indeed. That this was at the core of what had driven _her_ the other night. Her hand convulsed around his, proving that though her voice was assured, she understood the significance of this conversation. “I’ve been waiting on the man.”

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, as uncomfortable as any man in the face of this kind of conversation, but unable to back away from it completely. “I know you work hard, but you’re hardly a servant, Potts.”

“Not the kind of waiting I was talking about,” Pepper said with just a little too much patience. She had to know he’s being purposely obtuse. “Waiting as in ‘Waiting for Godot.’”

“You mean your life has become a nearly incomprehensible series of conversations occurring while you wait in a metaphorical middle of nowhere for someone you might not recognize when you see him?”

“That’s exactly what I mean. Not to mention that was pretty impressive. I didn’t think existential dramas were really your thing.” She looked absurdly proud, as if he’d figured everything out when all he’d really done was say the “right words.”

“Who’s this man you’ve been waiting for?” He needed to be absolutely certain of her meaning.

Pepper’s eyes glimmered softly in the light of the half moon as she glanced at him. There was a funny quirk to her lips and she breathed out a little forcefully. It’s as if he’d finally confounded her. “You really don’t know.”

“Pepper, I am absolutely _clueless_ here.” He watched her shake her head and look out at the dark grey vagueness of the water in front of them.

“I was waiting…” Her voice was soft when she finally started to give an answer. “…for the haphazard kindness to turn into genuine regard for the difficulties and situations of other people.” She nodded, but Tony didn’t think it was for his benefit. It was as if her actions are nearly as incomprehensible to her as they have been to him. “There are allowances of course, but I’ve tried not to hold you to standards that I wouldn’t hold anyone else to.”

“You were waiting for me to act like a human being?” Despite the unaffected tone of his voice, Tony felt the sting of her words.

“You’ve always been that, Tony. Sometimes especially so.”

“Ah, so to err is human, then. You know, I’m not sure I like this honest side of you, Pepper. It’s not so good for my ego.”

Her next sigh was surprisingly impatient. “More like no man is an island. No man is so isolated from others by his wealth and his intellect and his accomplishments that the repercussions of his actions effect only himself.”

“Chaos theory?”

“In a manner of speaking. Which I always thought you should have had a better grasp of, considering just how much chaos your quick changes of mind and direction have caused over the years.” She shook her head. “That’s what I was waiting for. Something more than a momentary sparkle of empathy. I was waiting for you to set standards for yourself instead of accepting that the ones _I_ set were nice but somewhat out of reach. Somehow quaint and impractical.” Pepper shook her head at herself again, pulled her hand from his grasp and cupped it to the back of her neck. Her sigh made her shoulders rise and fall heavily. “I’m not explaining things right, even though I spent all day yesterday trying to decide what I would tell you when you started asking these questions.” Her voice turned melancholy, as if she thought her honesty would drive a wedge between them. “I’ve always liked you much more than it currently sounds as if I did.”

Tony was silent as he watched her and considered the way she was holding herself.  “You wanted a man you could be proud of, not just a boss you could take pride in.”

Her wrist hid the lower part of her face when she glanced at him next. “You’re a very good boss, despite the antics.” He almost couldn’t stand it when she returned her gaze to the sea. “But yes. I knew that if you were going to be more than my boss, I needed to be proud of the man.”

“And you chose the other night?” Tony felt more than a little incredulous. He bent down, picked up a rock, and after considering its coolness and its fit in his hand for many silent seconds, he threw it as far as he could towards the ocean. The repetitive thrush of water meeting sand drowned out the sound of the stone’s landing. Almost drowned out the sound of Pepper’s reply.

“No. _You_ chose the other night.” The sand on his fingers transferred to hers immediately when she reached back out to him. “You have to understand: I’ve seen you make resolutions to change your ways, Tony. Usually made when you had a hangover, and usually lasting only until the memory of that hangover faded. Which isn’t to say that I didn’t want to rush into anything after you came back, because I did. You were actually _back_.” They were facing one another now; Tony could see Pepper’s throat move as she swallowed. “ _You_ were back. And making all sorts of promises, and changes, and my head won out. In one sweep of your hand, you declared you were going to change your entire lifestyle, practically, and I didn’t want to get hurt when the memories faded.” The hand not squeezing his occasionally – almost spastically – reached up in a nervous twitch to brush her hair out of her eyes. Despite the outward nervousness, her voice was steady as she rushed back into her narrative before he could ask more questions, or the same one again as she hadn’t actually answered his original question yet.

“So that’s been the last year. This week has been…it’s been me not dealing well with my cautious nature. I got mad when you treated me like a trusted employee after I told you that’s all I wanted to be. And I took it out on you.” Her eyes were shuttered, her face apologetic as she shook her hair back off her shoulders, tossing her head again to keep the breeze from blowing her bangs back into her eyes.

He was lost again, uncertain of where this was going. Had today been a test of some kind? Had he been too much of what she wanted, or not enough? Was it okay to feel the hope he couldn’t completely suppress because this had to mean something to her if it meant so much to him?

“So Friday night was…?”

“Me realizing that there’s no such thing as an unlimited time offer.” The reply was prompt, and stronger than everything else she’d said because of it. “It was me realizing that even though good things come to those who wait, that fortune also favors the bold…” She laughs softly, somewhat humorlessly. “…and that I’d been living behind too many clichés and faulty relationship advice from women’s magazines. That sometimes change only lasts as long as its encouraged and that silent encouragement doesn’t count.”

Tony was alarmed when two matching streaks of silver shot down Pepper’s cheekbones.


	5. Consumation

“Damnit.” Pepper growled low in her throat and pulled her hand from his to brush away her tears before he could beat her to it. “I didn’t intend to become a stupid girl over this,” she said apologetically, wiping at her cheeks again to erase all evidence of any uncomfortable emotions. “At least, not any more than I’ve already been about this whole mess –”

She’s apologizing? Tony couldn’t believe it.

That’s the last thing she needed to do.

Well, okay, he’d take one for the silent treatment this last week, but for anything else?

Totally unnecessary.

“Pepper.” Tony interrupted her in the middle of her rambling apology by replacing her hands – which were still wiping at her face – with his own. She went still and absolutely silent, clearly surprised to feel his hands on bare skin. It didn’t throw her for long though. With his hands cupped around her face, she rose on her toes and stepped close. Kisses that were messy, and just a little awkward because of the way she had to brace herself on his shoulders, and intensely beautiful for their honesty were pressed over his cheeks and against his once again shocked mouth. “I’m still not explaining myself right.” Pepper’s whisper was a hot promise against his skin. “What I’m trying to say is that the times that my boss is being an ass are growing fewer and father between, and that I enjoy my time with him too much not to see him as a man instead of a self-destined island, and that if you ever leave on another mission without telling me in person rather than leaving a note stuck to my office door I will kill you.”

Once again Tony was stunned as he gently pushed Pepper’s face away. The determination on that gamine face was shocking. “You’re half in love with me,” she stated fiercely. “Pretending with those women the other night would been whoring yourself out, and I wasn’t about to allow it. We both know you deserve better than cheap amusements.” She shrugged and said matter-of-factly, “Which is another reason I waited so long to…I suppose I am declaring myself, aren’t I?”

Tony nodded, since she seemed to be waiting for an answer.

“Okay. Good. I’m glad we agree on that.”

He nearly burst when she didn’t finish her last train of thought. “You were waiting…?” he prodded.

“Oh. Because I knew that our friendship could survive a few failed resolutions. But I didn’t want a relationship between us to become temporary and cheap if –”

“If I screwed up?”

“Don’t be stupid.” Pepper very nearly sounded insulted by his version of how events could have – could still, in his mind – gone wrong. “It’s just that I’m not unintelligent, nor am I a masochist.”

“I fail to see how that’s a problem.”

Pepper’s sidelong glance was full of wry humor. “If you’d been able to hear the discussions I’ve been having with myself for the past few months, you’d understand. You see, my intelligence has led me to observe that while in the past you’ve seemed to find it remarkable easy to forget about your…overnight guests…they’ve seemed to have a hard time getting over you. I’ve also observed that you have an almost compulsive need to possess anything new, shiny, or unique, without any consideration for whether or not you actually want it.”

“Well, when you put it that way…” When she put it that way, he did understand exactly what the holdup had been. What he still didn’t get was why any of this added up to her “rescue” the other night.

“Don’t get me wrong, Tony. That drive is an admirable trait when applied to technology, especially the way you build technology. It’s just…less so…when it comes to collecting people.”

“And this must be the part where not being a masochist becomes a factor.” Tony couldn’t help the glum tone in his voice. God, Pepper was jerking his emotions all over the place. And he clearly was a masochist because rather than admit defeat, he found himself wanting to draw the discussion of his flaws out further if it meant standing here in the cool sand and the dark with her.

“You make everything sound so black and white, Tony. There’s gradations of feeling involved here. I mean, for one thing, it’s my job to keep you from being too distracted by shiny baubles. And then, there’s been my desire to keep myself from the possibility of hurt…and you from it as well. Especially now that we’ve laid all our cards on the table.” Pepper’s voice got quieter and quieter with every word. “I was able to rationalize that keeping myself from being hurt served as a safeguard for you as well. As long as we risked nothing, there was no chance of losing anything.” She shifted closer, her eyes glimmered at him from under ridiculously lush eyelashes. “It’s not as if either of us have anything left that we can afford losing.”

Just like that, he was soaring again. “Keep talking about how much you need me.”

“It’s a two way street, you know.” One hand slapped his chest lightly; he trapped it immediately and held it next to the glow he just noticed escaping from his arc implant. Well, that would explain the glimmering eyes, wouldn’t it?

“I definitely…know…” He really couldn’t help it. He had to lower his head the few inches needed – such a novelty to be taller than close to eye to eye with her – and pressed his lips to the soft skin under her jaw. “Tell me more about how you can’t live without me.” Her hips were surprisingly easy to entice closer. “Or if you prefer –” he slid his arms around her waist without a hint of protest. “ – you could expand on how you’re wild about me, can’t stand to spend another second away from me, that you’re just dying to get me into –”

“The office at 10 am sharp tomorrow morning?” Pepper’s laugh rang softly in his ear; her hand patted his back just a little patronizingly when he groaned, turning from lover to disgruntled lover in the blink of an eye. He buried his face in the crook of her neck in retaliation and grinned as she squealed at the bristle of his beard against tender skin.

“Mr. Stark –”

“No. No, no, no, no, no,” he groaned. “Stop being reasonable and just run away with me.”

“If only I thought I was the first to hear that offer, you might find yourself in luck. As it is…” She tried to shrug him away, but he was having none of it. Her neck was warm, and soft, and smelled delicious. Vampires clearly had the right idea. It was one of the most delectable parts of a woman above the shoulders and under the chin. “As it is, I’m willing to discuss the development of a more intimate relationship between ourselves. Our adult, responsible, capable of self-control selves. And just because I’m willing to consider a…merger… doesn’t mean I’m going to toss aside our other relationships in order to have it. So stop trying to get out of –”

“Our other relationships?” That sounded promising.

Pepper pulled away slightly, leaning into the hands still around her waist in order to stay upright while she looked into his face. Her own expression was…tender. “Mmm-hmm. Our working relationship…and our friendship. Didn’t I just spend the last few minutes explaining how I was too afraid to move forward for fear of losing it?”

To be fair, the term “friendship” had never entered into the discussion, but Tony wasn’t about to split hairs. Out of all the things people usually wanted from him, a genuine friendship rarely rated a spot of the list.

“Now that you mention it, I don’t have a lot of friends.”

“I know,” Pepper said, mock solemn. “That why we’re going to take this slow. I don’t intend to let what we already have get buried in a mad scramble for naked skin.”

He could get used to Pepper speaking frankly. “Slipping between the sheets is hardly the same as getting buried.”

She wanted to laugh; he could see it in her eyes as she placed a finger over his lips to hush him. “Mr. Stark, I’m still not that easy. And you’re not going to be either.”

“But Pepper –”

“Uh-uh-uh. Like I said, you have to be in the office at 10 o’clock, and I – after I’ve been properly wined and dined, mind you – expect to keep you occupied for much longer than what we have left tonight.

Tony looked at her, stricken…amazed…captified.

It didn’t even matter that captified wasn’t technically a word.

He could really get used to Pepper speaking frankly.

“Ms. Potts, I think I’m in love,” he murmured around the finger still over his lips.

Pepper’s smile was as brilliant as it was…devious. It was enough to put the fear of god into him as she leaned up and paused mere millimeters from his lips.


	6. Dénouement

He waited, neither patiently nor pleasantly, for Pepper to arrive Monday morning. The minutes crawled by, immune to his glare and simmering angst. He felt like an inexperienced schoolboy plotting to corner his crush in the hallway. Or worse, like a gangly teen trying to figure out how to ask the most popular girl in school to the prom. Despite Pepper’s promises, he felt an uncertainty that had only ever been a part of his personal relationships – a major reason why he’d kept such relationships to a bare minimum. Whether this thing with Pepper worked out or not, he couldn’t see that elected isolation changing at this late date, which made it all the more important for this…development?…to work out. 

 _Seven fifty-six, seven fifty-seven, seven fifty-eight…_ At precisely 7:59 AM, Pepper strode through the front door, arms filled with a large document box. Before she could do more than look surprised to see him so close, Tony pulled the box from her hands and her into his arms. She was perfect; soft, warm, at precisely the right height for kissing without straining his neck or risking creaky knees. He kissed her as if there was nothing else on his schedule (which there was), as if no one would notice her swollen lips or the blush-tinted burn of his beard against her skin (which no one would).

As if she knew almost exactly how uncertain his control was, Pepper was receptive but restrained. Her hands on his cheeks were gentle, as if he were a wild animal in need of soothing.

“You’re managing me,” he muttered against her lips, stealing one last kiss before pulling away.

“We all have to play to our strengths,” she murmured softly, in a voice he barely recognized. She sounded…content. It made _him_ feel content, at least until her words really registered and he was able to consider all the ways she might _manage_ him in an entirely different context. Then he was just impatient.

He buried his face in her neck, getting lost in silky skin and the warm, alluring smell of this woman. “I’ve been thinking,” he informed her, though he really hadn’t been doing anything of the sort. “I don’t really need to go into the office today. If it could wait over the weekend then it can wait another twenty-four hours.”

It was interesting that Pepper made no attempt to disengage. He brushed aside the collar of her shirt to better explore her neck, wondering how far he could take things before she protested. Wondering if she would protest at all. “If I made you breakfast, would that count as wining and dining?”

“No.” Her disagreement was a sigh, but still enough to make him pause. Pepper actually sounded _tempted._ By him. It was a first in their ten year relationship.

“Sleep with me,” he insisted, laying his cards on the table. He was _so_ ready to take her to bed, in his bedroom. To strip away her clothes and his, to explore every pearly inch of her skin and have her return the favor. He craved…focus. Intense physical proximity. A chance to prove to her that she’d made the correct decision.

“Tony.” He refused to lift his head when she tried to raise it from her shoulder, so she changed tactics and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Kissed his ear. Stroked his head. Said with brutal honesty, “We have never rushed into anything. I don’t see the point of starting now.”

“We’ve known each other for ten years. How is _that_ rushing into anything?” Even he could hear the petulance in his tone. It’d been far too long since he’d had sex, much less had anything that could compare with what he’d be doing with Pepper.

She planted her hands on his chest and pushed; he resisted, tightening his arms around her. _She_ resisted, leaning back so he had to either look her in the face or commit to ogling her chest. Ogling her seemed the best way to put a swift end to the conversation, but it was also probably the best way to get her riled up.

When he finally met her eyes, she had one eyebrow raised, as if aware of the internal debate he’d had with himself.

“Am I worth waiting for?” Her blunt honesty was still shocking, even after the past several days and with him completely sober. It caught his attention in a way that little else did, or probably ever would. “Is being with me worth making good on all your other responsibilities before gorging ourselves on something that will be hugely gratifying?”

Since she used a term that could be considered selfish (gorge) and another that was clearly chosen to stroke his ego (huge), he was willing to consider her words, however grudgingly.

“Every time I think you’re no fun, you prove me right,” he finally grumbled.

Pepper laughed softly as she pushed herself away from him. “I’d hate to undo a year’s worth of progress just because I can’t keep my hands to myself for a little while longer,” she teased. “Just think of how my reputation would suffer if people found out I was letting you have your dessert before dinner.”

Her mention of her reputation sobered him as nothing else would have. “You’re okay with becoming the woman who’d date her boss?” A year ago that was the only protest she could make against making something of the energy that’d always flowed between them.

His question made her…shine. Her whole face lit up, her eyes became bright and no longer sleepy with passion. Her smile was wide and genuine.

It confused the hell out of him.

“What did I do?” he asked.

She rested a hand over his reactor. “You put my concerns in front of your needs.” Her smile spread until he couldn’t help but smile back even though he still didn’t _really_ get it. “You just proved that my boss is becoming the kind of man that no one would blame me for taking a risk on.”

 _Right_. Her list from the day before. More than flashes of empathy (he wasn’t sure this counted), standards for behavior he set for himself, awareness of the consequences his actions had on others.

He wasn’t a slow learner once he decided to give something his full attention.

“So…today we work.” It was a question. It was a testing of the metaphorical waters.

“Today we work,” she agreed, finally turning away to reclaim the box he’d purloined earlier.

“What about kisses? I think I deserve kisses for being patient. Why did you bring the goldfish back? I won that for you.” Inside the box was one of the bonsai he’d bought her, a large empty glass bowl, a bag of rocks, and large plastic bag holding several cups of water and a white and red-spotted goldfish won at the fairway last night.

“You’ve had kisses, and you didn’t win the fish for me. You won the fish and then couldn’t figure out what else to do with it _except_ give it to me.” She headed towards his shop of all places, still carrying the fish.

“Where are you going with that? You’re not taking that to my shop.”

“You’re a quick learner. Bodes well for the future.” The look she gave him over her shoulder was…mischievous. Playfully naughty. There was a sparkle of a secret in her eyes.

“What are you thinking?” He didn’t follow her, didn’t try to stop her from taking the fish down to the shop (if nothing else it might keep Dummy occupied with something other than that damn fire extinguisher). There was no point in stopping her when she was already everywhere.

“That anyone can learn new tricks as long as they’re motivated enough.”

He had to shout after her as she started going down the stairs. “I’ll have you know that my tricks are top notch!”

Her voice came back faintly, but was enough to make him smile. “Wasn’t talking about you!”

 _Huh._ Tony stared after her and scratched the back of his neck. _Imagine that_.

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: if I owned Iron Man or anyone associated with it, I’d probably still write fanfic, but then it wouldn’t be fanfic. It’d be canon. Lucky for the Iron Man ‘verse I’m on the outside looking in. Credit Stan Lee, Universal, Marvel, and whoever else for intellectual property. Credit Jon Favreau, Mark Fergus & Hawk Ostby, Robert Downey Jr., Gwyneth Paltrow, et al for bringing them to life.


End file.
